30 Days to Wed (Take 2)
by Blktgrrdrse
Summary: A/U: Bella Swan is never wrong about relationships. But, when it comes to Edward Cullen, it seems this therapist has bitten off more than she can chew. Will she be able to fulfill her drunken promise to see him wed in 30 days? M for Lemons later! All Canon couples.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Disclaimer: I still don't own Twilight. I just like to write fanfiction for fun. Please don't sue me...**

 **Hey, everyone! I'm back. I promised this ages ago, but, between moving and other fun stuff, I haven't really had the time I wanted to revamp it! But, here's your prologue! Reviews still get you quotes from the next chapter. This one is going to follow the basic plot of the original, but, it won't be the same story, so, it is perfect for new and old readers alike!**

 **Thank you guys! Without you, this wouldn't have been possible!**

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Prologue

There are very few things in life that I believe you should regret. Getting drunk and married to a stranger in Vegas, accidentally hitting a bunny running across the road, eating Chinese take-out after midnight...

As I said: very few things.

But, I think I have just found the ultimate, nay, the pinnacle, of things to feel ashamed of in your life.

A drunken agreement to get a man married in 30 days.

That's right. I, Bella Swan, somehow decided that I was on some plane higher than God and I could make a man get married within 30 days.

I wish I could simply say that I was drunk...but, I'm honestly believing that there is no excuse for this idiocy.

It was my own doing. It was all my fault...

I am simply an immature idiot who thought that, while drunk, giddy, and trying not to end up in bed with him myself, I told Edward Masen-Cullen that I could have him married within 30 days.

I'm also now ninety-nine percent sure that my first clue that I should have run far away from this situation is that his girlfriend dumped him by tearing out half of the keys and the strings in his twenty-thousand dollar piano.

As a relationship therapist, I can honestly attest to the amount of anger it would take anyone to be able to do that kind of damage...to anything. After all, when you're angry at a man, you go after his most prized possession. And, if I remember anything from when I was a kid, Edward loved his music more than anything.

I stare into my glass of whiskey and coke. I am an idiot.

My bartender, Zaffrina, passes me another drink. "Looks like you're gonna need this one, honey," says the tall, dark amazon. For a moment, I think that she is psychic...then, I hear the ever smooth, ever charming voice next to me and I realize that she is not omnicent, simply a bar tender...who has honed observation through her years of training at the hands of drunken patrons.

Oh, if only she knew how much I was actually going to need this drink.

"Well, that could have gone better."

* * *

I am not always the sharpest crayon in the box. I claim to be based on some ego that my psychology course tell me must have been developed in childhood...but, if I'm honest with myself...I am adult...then, no. I have no clue what I'm doing. I just give people advice on their relationships based on what some book I've read tells me. My profession, though it has made me quite wealthy, if no better than guesswork.

Which could be why I'm drinking in the deserted dive bar down the street from my office on a rainy Seattle weeknight.

I am single and lonely and all I do is give other failing couples advice on how to make their relationship work. It's nearly hypocritical! I tell everyone else how to make themselves happy and I am single and drinking alone only a couple weeks before my 30th birthday.

Seemingly, my best friends didn't realize how huge of a landmark it was for me to turn 30. To me, this was a big deal. Both of my best friends had succeeded in life! My best (female) friend is engaged and my other best friend...well, he has been trying to get in my pants since we were teens...though, he did manage one of the most successful car repairs in the state of Washington. I'm just giving terrible advice that may or may not work while couples come into my office to yell at each other.

They'd both invited my out to do something tonight and I had shot them down. Jake wanted to take me out to dinner, which he would consider a date. I wasn't falling for that one again. Alice wanted me to go to dinner, too...but, with her fiance Jasper in tow.

I suppose that the least of two evils would have been to take Alice's invitation and join her and Jasper for dinner tonight...but, I hated being the third wheel. And, knowing Alice, she was trying to set me up with one of Jasper's friends who had also been dragged to dinner under the pretense that some pretty girl was going to be there. In reality, when they met me, short, curvy, and on the nerd spectrum somewhere between "my favorite subject is crime dramas" and "do you read _Psychology Today_?"

I sighed and took another drink. Ah, well. You can't beat a good cocktail.

Someone slid onto the bar stool next to me. I ignored them. It wasn't my problem to deal with. Two lonely souls can sit next to each other at the bar and not speak. It was how it should work.

Unfortunately...this is America and people have no social boundaries.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing here looking so lonely?"

I barely paid the voice any attention. I could have done several things. I could have been snarky. I could have even flirted back. Instead, I realized how exhausted I was and simply sighed. "Look, I've had a really long day and I would just like to be left alone." I didn't make eye contact, I just simply sipped my drink.

I guess I must send out pretty mixed signals.

"Well, baby, they tell me I'm a good listener if you want to talk about it." Out of the corner of my eye, I catch him wave the bartender over. "Another one for the lady here, on me."

I feel myself sneer. "I just told you I wanted to be left alone. What part of that are you not understanding?" I try to keep myself calm. I'm pretty sure that if I make it a big deal, he'll only persist or just cuss me out. And, I don't feel like fighting with anyone. I'm five foot four. I have mousy brown hair and wide, brown doe eyes. I can't imagine why anyone would want to talk to me unless they were as desperate for a lay as I was...

...And Lord knows I don't need that in my life...

I feel an arm wrap around my shoulder. Just as I am about to wrench the arm from its socket and bite this all too brazen barfly, I hear a remotely familiar voice...like something out of a dream or a memory that I just can't quite place. "Is he bothering you, babe?"

I look up, my eyes probably the size of golf balls, and I see something absolutely frightening.

Six foot something, sparkling emerald eyes, broad shoulders, messy copper hair...Someone give me another drink because I'm pretty sure that I am one step from drinking myself under the table. He has to be an illusion. Why else would some amazing, god-like creature have an arm wrapped around my shoulder and want anything to do with me?

I stumble for only a moment. "N-no, babe. He was...he was just leaving." And, to my surprise, the man who seemingly had no knowledge of the English language walked away, thanks to a very sweet man's-man...

Ah, if only I had been born with the right set of parts...

As soon as my creeper left, Zeus withdrew his arm and sat on the bar stool next to me. Well, actually, he slumped onto the bar stool next to me, as if he was so jaded that the amount of effort it took to sit on a simple chair was just too much. He waved the bartender over, who apparently had some sort of respect for him, because he left the cocktail he was making, and barked, "Scotch on the rocks." It appeared before him almost immediately.

Whatever this power was, I would love to possess it.

He took a drink and then turned to me. "Never expected to see baby Bella in a dive bar," he mutters to me.

I feel my face twitch. "E-excuse me?" Did I hear him correctly? Was he even talking to me?

Did he have a subscription to _Psychology Today_ and was he single?

He glanced over at me and something about my expression must have been quite amusing because he laughed. A nice, kind laugh that seemed to come from a genuine place. "What? Miss Know-it-all doesn't recognize me? Oh, come on, Bella! I'm almost insulted." He took another drink of the scotch before raising it in my direction and taking a large amount of effort to swallow it. "If it hadn't been almost ten years since I had seen you, I would have to be insulted. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt this time, though," he says, putting the empty glass on the counter...sorry, bar.

In my shock, I look him over once again. He's wearing expensive clothes. That tells me nothing. His shoes are a nondescript black tennis shoe. If not for the logo, I wouldn't know they were custom made. His jeans are aged, but, purposely so. He shops at one of the stores that makes you pay somewhere in the neighborhood of a hundred dollars for a pair of jeans that's just going to wear out in three months. The leather jacket over the button up shirt probably cost as much as my entire outfit. All this was leading me to was that he was attractive and dressed nicely.

And, he must be from Forks. Ten years ago would have been the last time I had dared to come home for vacation from the University for more than a couple days. Did I go to high school with him? I blink rapidly. Messy copper hair, stunning green eyes...cheekbones that could cut glass.

"...Dear Jesus! Edward?" Edward Masen-Cullen, my best friend's much older brother, and I hadn't seen each other since I was an awkward teenager. Last time I saw him, he was about to graduate from med school with some specialty degree in surgery and I was a sophomore at the University of Washington with his sister. The last time I saw him was actually _at_ his graduation party. He had always been attractive and, yes, I'll admit, I have always had a schoolgirl's crush on him. But, to run into him _here_? That was uncanny, to say the least.

He laughs at me, again. He must be drunk. I find that I am hardly that humorous. "Very good job, Bella Swan. You always were bright, though, weren't you?" He gets another scotch from the bar tender. How many had he had while I wasn't paying attention?

I chew on my lip while I try to think of what else to say to break the silence. I grip onto my glass with both hands, semi-nervous. I was supposed to be an adult now and his very presence still made my heart jump and twirl in my chest. "So..." I swirl a little bit of the liquid left in my glass around. "Come here often?" I wish I could kick myself for how ridiculous that sounded once it left my lips. Too late now, though. Just have to stick with it.

He looks at me sideways. "Only when a broken heart strikes," he laments. I feel my face twist. "Before you say anything, it's probably for the better. We've been together ten years and she doesn't want to get married. What's a guy going to do?"

Oh. Drowning out pain. I try to push my psychologist self aside. "I'm...that's...wow..." He's definitely trying to cope by telling me about this. I should just go with it. Honestly...I have no idea who his girlfriend is, was, or will be. I was too wrapped up in how sexy he looked to care about this week's blonde on his arm. "Ten years is a really long time..." I try to think of how else to lay it out for him without having to just be that supportive, "there are other fish in the sea" voice.

If I were honest, I would just say this: After ten years, there were no other fish in the sea. You're ruined. You are trained. You will need a massive amount of reconditioning to get to even know what parts of you are you and what parts of you are your partner. Ten years was a freakishly long period of time for people to be together without even discussing marriage.

Of course, it was also less costly and divorce attorneys would have you believe that it is an unpopular opinion and you should get married so in ten years you can pay to remodel their new house in the DC suburbs.

Edward nods to my comment. "You say that as if I hadn't been there all ten years."

I purse my lips. I was probably the worst person to deal with a breakup. As a relationship therapist, you would think I am good at this. But, no. My last two relationships I ended by text message. That's right: text message. The mature, adult way to let people down gently.

Dear God. Why did I even have a job?

I pull my jacket tighter around me and look up at him through my lashes. "Listen...if you just need a friend tonight..."

I hope my face is imploring him to finish my sentences as much as I want it to.

I see him smile, that cliché crooked smile that you hear about in romance novels. "I would like that, Bella," he finishes the thought for me.

The bartender comes over to us as we exchange a friendly smile. "Anything else I can get for you guys?"

I should have never let the depressed drunk order shots...

Half an hour later, we are completely trashed. I learned that Alice had tried to rope him into going to dinner tonight, as well. So, I was supposed to be his rebound girl. Well, too bad, Alice! Not in a million years!

We had become so trashed that we were now putting down his ex-girlfriend with the stereotypical insults I am pretty sure that everyone in the bar had heard a million times before. I giggle as I try not to spill my drink on myself. I finally put it down on the table in front of us. There's no way I'm drinking home tonight.

"Tanya was probably fat and ugly, anyway!" I whine, snickering as if what I have said was the funniest joke ever.

Edward shakes his head, laughing. I suspect, at me. "No, no, no. Tanya was a model before we met. High class fashion shoots in Paris and stuff. She quit when we moved in together. Must be nice to live with a surgeon, huh?" He's still drinking. But, my room is spinning.

How the hell was I getting home?

"So, why'd you just now decide you wanted to marry her?" I am generally curious. The worst he can do is not tell me.

"It seemed like it was about time. But, she dumped me. Can you believe that? What kind of woman would dump you while you're on bent knee in front of them with the biggest diamond they've probably ever seen?"

I wave a hand, dismissive. "I bet I could get you all married up in a month," I say, though I'm not sure what possessed me to say this... "You're handsome and smart and handsome...who wouldn't want to marry you?"

And, I'll be honest...after that, I don't remember much, except a blacked out, fuzzy haze.

The next morning, I woke up to a text message from a number I didn't know...

 **I doubt you're feeling breakfast this morning, Bella, so, how about we start my "husband-training" tomorrow. And, don't forget, you signed a contract. -Edward.**

What in God's name have I done?

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 **A/N: Reviews= Quotes from the next chapter!**

 **Thank you all SOOOOO much for reading! I've missed each and every one of you!**


	2. Day One

**A/N: Still don't own it. Wish I did. Otherwise, I wouldn't be drowning in credit card debt.**

 **Hi, everyone! I'm sorry that I have been away for so long. I'm working full time and going to get my master's degree. But, I really want to write again. This is what I felt was a good concept. I hope you all feel the same way. Sorry that you guys had to wait so long for the second chapter!**

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Day One: All Relationships Have Value

I wake up to determine that I hate the smell of bacon. I'm pretty sure that I am hungover. My stomach is rolling and my head is pounding. I haven't been hungover since...well, since college. Oh, dear God. What have I done?

I put my feet over the edge of the bed, and try to stand up. As I do, I get dizzy and have to sit back down. I have made a mistake.

I crawl my way into the kitchen to see Alice, the little pixie, looking like a goddess. She clearly just rolled out of bed and was sipping coffee out of her travel mug, her bobbed ebony hair looking perfectly styled, as always. She looks me over as I walk into the kitchen. "You had a rough night," she says, reaching for a piece of bacon off of the plate on my counter. "Sharing is caring, Bella!" She says, a satisfying crunch coming from her teeth as she bites the still sizzling piece of fat.

I slump into the chair across from her at the island in the middle of the kitchen. "How did you get here?" I mutter, cupping my head in my hands, staring at the lines in the wooden island. I'm so hungover that the lines are still swiveling. Or maybe it could be that my head was pounding so much that I could barely concentrate.

But, I was genuinely confused about Alice's appearance in my apartment. Alice does have a key to my apartment. I know she could have simply let herself in. But, she wouldn't have stopped by without a reason. Alice never does. She comes over uninvited, it isn't because she cares. It's because she either thought I was dead because I didn't respond to her text message within twenty minutes or she was working up a scheme.

A pill bottle of appears in front of my line of sight. Alice has gotten good at that, figuring out where I was looking. "A little birdie told me that someone might be in need of some…assistance this morning." I hear glass tingling as she takes a glass out of my cabinet and fill it with water from my faucet. "Actually, it was a vague text message from my brother who never reaches out to me, but, he could be a bird…" She puts the water down in front of me and I proceed to pour three aspirin in my hand. Is that enough? I put another one in my hand. "And he seemed _very_ concerned about _you._ "

I roll my eyes…before I realize it hurts to do that. "There's nothing to tell, Alice," I murmur. "We ran into each other at a bar. We got drunk together over how we are single and desperate in Seattle and that's it." Alice doesn't try to push any of her bacon on me. But, when I look up at her, I see that she is still crunching on her pieces. "Of course, after that, I don't remember much…"

Alice hops up onto my counter, balancing her plate on her legs, looking a little too pleased with herself. "So...I see you got to be set up on my blind date, after all!"

"Ugh!" Only Alice would consider getting wasted by accident with a perspective blind date a "blind date". Alice's true scheme has been revealed. "You know…I should have known you had something to do with all of this."

Alice scoffs. "I wish. I cancelled dinner, but even I couldn't have predicted that you both frequented the same dive bar." She shrugged. "I don't think it could have gone better if I had planned it!"

"Alice!" I point my finger at her, accusingly. "You don't do that to a guy who just got out of a ten-year commitment! I refuse to be his rebound girl!"

Alice's turn to roll her eyes now, I guess. "Oh, please. They were never right for each other. Everyone knows that. They were always on one day, off the next…I mean, come on, Bella. The bitch broke up with him by dismantling a twenty-thousand-dollar grand piano. And she won't even let him go back to his own apartment because her name is on the lease. She's shipping him boxes to my house…because the only place he can stay is in my guestroom. You wouldn't happen to want a roommate, would you?" The look on my face must be enough to say that I am unamused by her attitude toward her brother. She waves her hand. "Anyway, they broke up a couple weeks ago. He needs to get back on his feet. You know. There's other fish in the sea and all that jazz. You're a relationship therapist. You do this for a living. You should know all this stuff, right?"

I watch Alice down a glass of orange juice I don't remember seeing her grab. "Alice…it's not like that. You can't just fall out of love with someone. And, while it isn't fair that he is being treated like crap by her…there's things he can do…like involve a lawyer or the police. Technically, they were in a common law marriage. So, the only thing that he needs to do is get an attorney. It's just like a divorce. Only, a lot less technical."

Alice was about to start saying something when I glanced at the clock. "Oh my God! I'm late for work!" I jump off the stool and rush to my room. I'm halfway there when Alice bellows from the kitchen.

"No, you're not. I called Angela. I let her know you were sick. All of your appointments today are cancelled. Edward wants you to know that you're doing dinner tonight at eight. He has today off, but he goes in to work the overnight shift at eleven. So, he said whatever you had to cover you better make sure that it can be covered in two hours."

I raise an eyebrow. "You're better than a rolodex."

Alice smirks. "What can I say? I'm good at what I do!"

I slump back down at the island. "I thought you were a personal shopper these days."

She lifts her orange juice to her lips. "That, too."

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It's eight o'clock and I sit at a table at, believe it or not, Applebees. Because nothing says classy like Applebees. It's a Thursday night, so, it isn't that busy. I feel very…strange. I'm sitting alone. And Edward is late. I pull my skirt hem, adjusting myself in my seat. I have water with lemons in front of me. I'm never touching alcohol again. I will remember that mistake. The waitress has come to ask me if I'm alright five times already in the ten minutes I've been here.

And I made the mistake of bringing my briefcase so I look like a complete idiot, sitting at a booth by myself, staring at the red leather upholstery and happy couples and amused friends.

I'm about to leave when Edward walks up. "Sorry I'm late," he says, as the waitress magically appears again. "I'll just have a Blue Moon, please," he says, dismissively to the waitress. She stumbles over her words before she rushes off to get his drink.

He looks perfect, as always. His hair is perfectly messy, and his eyes, though they appear tired, are that wonderful sparkling emerald that I so enjoy. "Will we be ordering from the two-for-twenty menu tonight?" I say, jokingly. He doesn't seem to appreciate it as much as I do.

"Order whatever you like. It's on me," he says, picking up the menu and moving it to the side. I purse my lips. This seems like a great start to the evening.

"Ok," I say, watching the waitress bring him his beer. She then leaves, giving us time to look at the menu. "Look, if you aren't feeling up to this…"

Edward shakes his head. "No, Bella. I'm sorry. It's not you. My…ex…called today. It was rather frustrating." He takes a sip of the perfectly poured beer, the orange on the side never once moving. Even his drinks get delivered to him perfectly…

I nod, sympathetically. "Would you like to talk to me about it?" I pick up my briefcase and pull out the papers from their sleeves. "That's my job, after all."

Edward laughs. That's good. "Well, she refused to pay for the piano and I told her that was literally the only thing that I wanted from our apartment. But, she won't buy me another one. Mostly because I don't have a place to put it at the moment, she claims. What she really means is that she hated the piano and that I'm going to have to sue her for destruction of property."

I nod, thoughtfully. "Well, that certainly is an option. You were technically in a common law marriage so, honestly, you are both entitled to half of all property that was accumulated during your relationship. That means that if you get an attorney, you would be able to come to an agreement for separation of property. I've dealt with a lot of divorces," I say in defense before he can question how I know everything.

He shakes his head. "That's not what I want, though," he says. "I want to marry Tanya, to go back to the life that I had before we broke up."

I feel my nose wrinkle. "I don't think that's a possibility. I mean…breaking the piano says that she's done with the relationship…in my opinion."

Edward raises an eyebrow. "You don't remember last night at all, do you?"

I raise my eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Edward laughs, a sarcastic laugh that I know I should be concerned about. He gently pulls a napkin out of his pocket. He passes it to me. "To help you remember," he says as he takes another drink of his beer.

I pick it up gentle and feel my stomach drop to the floor. Oh, no.

 _I, Bella Swan, hereby decree that I will have the client, Edward Masen-Cullen, engaged to be married within the next thirty days._

 _Isabella Marie Swan_

I'm not sure what's more embarrassing: the fact that I have created a legal document on a napkin from a bar, or the fact that I kissed it, leaving my lipstick mark on the corner

"Oh, no…" I whisper to myself.

"Oh, yes," he responds.

I feel myself turning bright red. "What have I done?"

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 **A/N: Thank you for reading! Every review gets a personal response from me. I would do quotes, but it doesn't always work out for me these days. I'll try to update more often, between classes and work! I hope you guys enjoyed it. Please let me know what you would change and what you liked!**


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